


Miles To Go

by kcstories



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Hopeful Ending, Implied Bill Weasley/Tonks, Implied infidelity (not Remus or Severus), M/M, Past Remus/Tonks - Freeform, Post-War, Pre-Slash, Remus Lupin Lives, Severus Snape Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2008-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8188100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcstories/pseuds/kcstories
Summary: Scenes from a life on the run.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** The Potterverse is JKR's, not mine.

With the harsh December wind mercilessly whipping them in the face, the two tall, thin men wade through the thick snow as fast as possible. Despite their woollen cloaks, gloves, hats and those thick winter boots and thermal socks, they’re chilled to the bone.  
  
They can’t spare the time to stop and ponder on that, however. They have to keep moving. Someone might have already discovered their whereabouts. Someone might be following them, even now.  
  
“Severus, we should probably start looking for somewhere to spend the night,” Remus says. His are the first words to be spoken since noon, when he and his companion briefly paused to drink some hot mushroom soup from a large thermos. “We need to find some kind of shelter before nightfall. It looks like snow again. Not to mention, we’re getting closer to the forest. Merlin only knows what dangerous creatures we’d encounter otherwise.”  
  
His companion sneers. “If you’re going to start whingeing again, Lupin, I can promise you, you’ll have far worse things to worry about than whatever may lurk in that forest.”  
  
“W-What?”  
  
“Me, for a start. Aren’t you Gryffindors meant to be heroic, endure any hardship without complaint and all that rot? I haven’t seen much evidence of that thus far, I must say.”  
  
“I wasn’t about to start complaining,” Remus says, his tone indignant. “I was merely suggesting we…” Sighing, he shakes his head, and then adds feebly, “Besides, I’m not a Gryffindor anymore.”  
  
“People don’t stop being Gryffindors, Lupin; once a reckless fool, always a reckless fool. Now hurry up! If we’re to locate somewhere to safely spend the night, we’d best be quick about it.”  
  
“Right,” Remus says, sounding slightly out of breath. “Okay.”  
  
They’ve been walking for hours. They’ve hardly done anything but walk, ever since they decided to leave their previous refuge two days ago.  
  
Truth be told, they didn’t have much choice in the matter. If they hadn’t moved on, someone might have discovered them alive and well, while they’re supposed to be dead, both of them, but Severus in particular.  
  
If someone found him, he’d be arrested on the spot, and in all likelihood, he’d be a dead man before his case even went to trial. A vast number of people on both sides prefer him six feet under. Not a single place in the whole of Wizarding Britain is safe for him.  
  
So he decided to flee to the Muggle world, and to a foreign country to make absolutely certain, and Lupin would go with him, because it was the only solution that made sense. _Because of the Wolfsbane,_ he told himself.  
  
Sometimes he still tells himself that’s the reason, although he no longer believes it.  
  
Perhaps he never did. He excels at fooling other people—it’s probably the only reason he’s still alive—but he’s above deluding himself.  
  
The plan is to go to the Continent, but they have to make it to the coast before they can travel across the North Sea, and that’s not as easy a task as it might seem.  
  
All the Scottish ports are under close Ministry scrutiny. The closest place that’s reasonably safe is Hull, where they plan to catch the first ferry out, and they have to get there without using magic.  
  
Even a hint of a suspicious magical signature, and the Aurors will be down there in a flash.  
  
So this is the only way, on foot through the snow, and no matter how difficult, they have to keep on going.  
  
  
*  
  
  
Remus’ teeth clatter. His fingers are starting to go numb, and he doesn’t even want to ponder on the dreadful state his feet must be in by now. _Godric_ , this was a stupid undertaking, walking so many miles in the dead of winter. What were they even thinking? They should have lain low until spring.  
  
If only there had been time, and tolerance. Had they been discovered, Severus would have been arrested for war crimes, no doubt about it, despite the evidence in Dumbledore's Pensieve, and as for Remus himself…  
  
He hadn’t done anything anyone could fault him for. His reasons for leaving were strictly personal.  
  
He saw no reason to stick around for a baby that couldn’t possibly be his, not with that red hair and all those freckles. The child was an unmistakable Weasley, probably Bill’s son, no matter how ardently Tonks denied that allegation, time after time.  
  
Remus still mourns her death, in his own way, at the back of his mind. He still regrets, sometimes, that Severus Apparated in and pulled him away from the blast; _him_ rather than her.  
  
She was a mother. He’s just a werewolf and a man who has made some very poor decisions.  
  
Remus doesn’t doubt that Severus, in his heart of hearts, has his own regrets about that afternoon, too. Severus intended to save them both, but when he went back for Tonks, it was already too late. The entire clearing had gone up in flames.  
  
Molly Weasley is looking after little Teddy now. She’s probably the best person for the task, so no one should worry on that front.  
  
Remus stops dead in his tracks when he spots something in the distance.  
  
“Severus,” he says, his voice unusually loud in the landscape of endless snow, and points his finger. “Look! That’s a barn over there, I think.”  
  
“A barn.” Severus sneers. “How ridiculously appropriate.”  
  
“Sorry?” Remus asks, blinking.  
  
Severus sighs. “It’s Christmas Eve, Lupin.”  
  
“Oh? Is it?”  
  
Severus sighs again. “Yes.”  
  
“B-But how do you know?” Remus blurts out. “You know you can’t use magic. Casting an actual _Tem_ -“  
  
“Don’t!” Severus cuts him short. “For Salazar’s sake, don’t say the actual spell! Are you harbouring some sort of death wish?” He lifts up his left arm. The sleeve slips down a bit, just enough to reveal a regular Muggle wristwatch. “As it happens, I purchased this two weeks ago when I went to fetch the missing ingredients for your… potion. You’ll find it also displays today’s date.”  
  
“Oh,” Remus says, looking somewhat sheepish. “I-I never noticed it before.”  
  
“Ah, well,” Severus replies, lowering his arm again, “if you’re right about the barn, at least this already solves the mystery of who gets to play the role of the ass in this particular nativity scene, doesn’t it?”  
  
Remus rolls his eyes. “Very funny, Severus.”  
  
“I do try,” he replies dryly. “Now come along, Lupin. Neither of us is getting any younger… or warmer.”  
  
  
  
*  
  
  
The dwelling turns out to be a small, cosy cottage rather than a barn. Severus assumes it belongs to whoever owns this vast expanse of land.  
  
He walks over to the fireplace and lights it with one of the matches that are conveniently lying on the mantelpiece. “We can stay here tonight,” he says. “We’ll take turns sleeping, in case someone… Well, you know the routine by now, don’t you, Lupin? No need for me to go over it again. You can sleep the first shift, if you’d like.”  
  
Remus frowns. “Do you really suppose someone would…? I mean, tonight of all nights? And in this weather?”  
  
“No, not particularly,”—Severus shrugs—“but we must always expect the unexpected, Lupin, and we mustn’t let our guard down, not even for a minute, not until we’ve reached our destination.”  
  
“Right,” Remus says slowly, his tone hesitant. He pushes the small sofa a bit closer to the fire, and curls up on it. “Um, merry Christmas, then, I suppose.”  
  
Severus sneers, but says nothing. He also takes a seat on the sofa, and wraps an arm around his companion. The two of them are friends, of sorts, and possibly, some day soon, they’ll be more than that. Their relationship certainly seems to be heading in that direction, even though this isn’t something they ever discuss.  
  
Hope can be a treacherous thing at the best of times, and in the present circumstances, it’s likely turn into despair before the first layer of snow has even melted.  
  
Still, Severus remembers it vividly. He cannot forget even the slightest detail, even though the incident happened decades ago. Its humiliating memory continues to linger, almost mocking him in its persistence.  
  
Only Lupin supported him— _comforted_ him—and only behind closed doors, in the place they used to meet, a near derelict shed on the edge of the forest. The place has long since been torn down, but Severus is certain he’d still be able to find his way there in the dark.

  
  
_”I-I’m sorry for what they did. James, he… he can be such a cruel bastard sometimes.”_  
  
_“A fact that hardly stops you from associating with him, though, does it, Lupin? I wonder what that says about you…”_  
  
_No words in response. No further apologies. Instead, a kiss._

  
  
Severus remembers that very clearly, too, as if it happened only yesterday. No one had ever kissed him in such a passionate, determined way before, and no one else has, since.  
  
It’s a startling realisation and a rather sad one besides, so he pushes it to the back of his mind.  
  
Some day, perhaps, he’ll allow himself to think about it at great length and to act upon any conclusions he may eventually reach, but not today or tomorrow or the day after.  
  
Maybe next year…  
  
Outside the cottage, the wind howls. Hail slams relentlessly against the worn windowpanes. A blizzard is coming.  
  
Severus pulls Remus closer.  
  
He’s fairly confident no one will bother them tonight. Any possible pursuers may be keen, but they’re hardly desperate enough to risk life and limbs for the sake of rounding up a few fugitives who aren’t likely to get too far before morning.  
  
Severus closes his eyes. He won’t allow himself any sleep, not just yet, but a bit of rest won’t hurt.  
  
They still have miles to go before they reach Hull.


End file.
